{LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.* 



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,=£%# > JVU*t 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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FIBM QEOTJND. 



THOUGHTS 



ON 



LIFE ArTD FAITH 



BY 



george Mcknight. 




PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 

STERLING, N. Y. 
■T7 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by 

george Mcknight, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



CONTENTS 



PART I. 



Page. 

s Prologue to Part 1 9 

4 Gifts 17 

* Dues 18 

Suum Cuique ? 19 

* The Soul's Measure 20 

• Time's Best Promise 21 

•All Seek the Good 22 

• Les Miserables 23 

The Arraignment of Chastisement. 1 24 

« " " " II 25 

" " " " III 26 

1 The Inevitable Penance 27 

■>The Ministry of Remorse 28 



4 CONTENTS. 

Page 

s Means of Rescue 29 

A Vision of Forgiveness. I. . 30 

- A Vis' on of Forgiveness. II 31 

^Rectitude 32 

Discernment of Right through Sympathy 33 

The Highest Utility 34 

- Clear Assurance. I 35 

" " II 36 

" " III 37 

" " IV 38 

" " V 39 

-The Prayer of the Righteous. 1 40 

« u u u u Y[, 41 

Elihu's Argument. 1 42 

" " II 43 

" " III 44 

^The Retrospect 45 

.Reaching Forth 46 

^The Estrangement of Happiness. 1 47 

" " " '« II 48 

" » " " III... 49 

Unhonored Worth 50 

-" Though naught they may to others be." 51 



CONTENTS. 5 

Page. 

Perpetual Youth 52 

Soul-Food 53 

Discernment of the Good and Beautiful 54 

" The Soul is dyed by the Thoughts." 55 

Kinship 56 

Scorn 57 

Opportunity 58 

Triumph 59 

" An Idler in the Land." 60 

Consummation 61 

Soul-Symmetry 62 

In Unison , . 63 

Disinthrallment 64 

Live while you Live 65 

Memento Mori 66 

" Reason thus with Life." 67 

Sure Confidence 68 

Fearless 69 

Death the Renewer 70 

D eath and Love 71 

The Guile of Nature 72 

Euthanasia 73 



CONTENTS. 



PART II. 

Page. 

Prologue to Part II .... , 75 

Light in Darkness 83 

Fidei Fundamentum 84 

No Secondary Cause of Love 85 

Ubique et Semper. I 86 

« " « II.... 87 

1 He that formed the eye, shall He not see ? " 88 

Revealed 89 

No Waste of Life 90 

The Earliest Need. 91 

Complaints and Answers. I , «, . . 92 

" » " II 93 

" » " III 94 

« « " IV 95 

The Covenant 96 

No Promise Broken 97 

Fixed Fate 98 

The Birth of Sorrow. 99 

The Work of Evil 100 

The Office of Sorrow 101 



CONTENTS. 7 

Page. 

Reconciliation 102 

Soul-Light 103 

Subjective Truth 104 

The Mental Spectrum 105 

The Permanence of Truth 106 

Crumbled Forms 107 

Growths from the Soul 108 

The Dimness of History 109 

The Test of Truth HO 

Recompense of Doubt. I HI 

" " " II 112 

" " " III 113 

The Office of Unbelief. 114 

Till Clearer Light 115 

Diffusive Beauty . 116 

Formative Beauty ....<.... 117 

The Power of the Ideal 118 

Recognition of the Final Cause 119 

Partial Readings 120 

Light-Gleams 121 

The Divine Immanence. 1 122 

" " " II 123 

" The Glory of the Lord shall endure Forever." 124 



8 CONTENTS. 

Page. 
The Receding Perfect 125 

Compensation 126 

" Perfect Love casteth out Fear." 127 

The Right Eternal 128 

The Criterion of Revelation. 1 129 

" " » " II 130 

" " " « III 131 



PROLOGUE TO PART I 



O OME record I would leave of trustful hours, 

When livelier sympathy and kindlier mood 
Of feeling harmonized the mental powers, 

And seemed to make more clearly understood 

The casual evil and essential good 
Of human motives; though full many a deed 

Of sin seemed to require such plentitude 
Of pity, reason would to love concede, 
Divine compassion must respond to such great need. 



10 FIRM GROUND. 

\ 

Of holy hours, when Duty to incline 

The will to yield a full obedience, 
Spake with a tone of majesty divine ; 

And, pointing to no other recompense, 

Gave by approving look immediate sense 
Of great peculiar favor God bestows 

Upon the just ; though lawful consequence 
For both the evil and the good dispose 
Events, now making glad, now darkening life with woes. 

Triumphant hours, when though the changeful look 

Of Fortune darkly frowned, it terrified 
Not even the delicate delights that brook 

No hot pursuit, but only will abide 

In souls where love and knowledge are allied, 
And, blended, issue forth through gazing eyes ; 

Making a vision so serene and wide, 
The narrowest horizon will comprise 
The beauty of all lands, the glory of all skies. 



PROLOGUE TO PART I. 11 

And of more solemn hours, when Birth and Death 

As Life's successive ministers were viewed ; — 
One to inspire, one to withdraw the breath, 

As Destiny ordains ; and though they stood 

In mutual antithetic attitude 
Among the powers obeying Life's control, 

A common end was seen to be pursued 
By both, and, to the calmly reasoning soul, 
Death evermore appeared the nearest to the goal. 

Would that in those serener seasons, when 

The sun of truth seemed with unclouded light 
To beam upon me, farther reaching ken 

Had to the eye belonged, or finer sight ; 

Or I had stood upon some lofty height 
Of learning, where great minds abide alone ; 

That looking near or far, I haply might 
Have then discovered, and to others shown, 
Some precious verities still waiting to be known. 



12 FIRM GROUND. 

But though the truths I have recorded here 
May be familiar as the flowers that grow 

Along the wayside, yet they did appear 
Into my soul immediately to flow 
From their first source ; for I did surely know 

Through my own new and clear experience 
Their truthfulness, did feel the warming glow 

Imparted to them in that fountain whence 

Truths issue and disperse in radiant effluence. 

And does not Nature own the wayside flowers ? 

Perchance her rarest beauty is revealed 
In dainty petals distant dewy bowers 

Of unfrequented forests have concealed 

From common vision, or the cultured field 
Brought forth. Yet could we but discern the true 

And perfect meaning Nature fain would yield 
Unto our minds in flowers we daily view, 
Their beauty might appear as precious and as new. 



PROLOGUE TO PART I. 13 

And though care-burdened men, day after day, 
Go and return in haste, and give no heed 

To blossoms seen so often by the way ; 
Yet haply if a resting traveller, freed 
A season from demands of want and need, 

Should note a lowly modest comeliness 

In blooming wayside herbage, then, indeed, 

Pure, peaceful thoughts his spirit might possess, 

And even some after hours, remembered peace might 
bless. 



PART I. 



LIFE 



GIFTS. 



" Who maketh. thee to differ ? " 



"TDROTHER, my arm is weaker far than thine ; 
And thou, my brother, seest a subtile hue 
Of beauty, overspreading many a view, 

Too delicate to thrill such brain as mine. 

And yet, brothers both, by many a sign 
God shows for me as warm love as for you : 
With equal care his light and rain and dew 

Cherish the sturdy tree and clinging vine. 

Be thou not proud of thy more massive brawn ! 
Nor thou, because within thy brain each thread, 
Through which the thought pulsations pass and spread 

From cell to cell, has been more tensely drawn ! 
God's forces made you what you are, why then 
Should you expect the reverence of men ? 



18 FIRM GROUND. 



DUES. 



"Ye are not your own.' 



A GAINST a soul the accusing angel brought 
Complaint, and said, " The earth has not concealed 
The sweat of one who tilled unpaid thy field — 

'T is risen to Heaven ! " 

" He served but as he ought,'' 

The soul replied. " A suffering wretch besought 
Help of the knowledge God to me revealed, 
And in one hour all his disease was healed ; 

For this a hundred weeks he duly wrought." 

Then from the Throne the words of judgment came: 
" The powers wherewith my servants are endowed 
Are for my service ; if, possession-proud, 

One for his own behoof or glory claim 

Their use and increase, he will rob his Lord — 
Not his the faithful servant's great reward." 



LIFE. 19 



SUUM CUIQUE? 



T~F finer powers within thy brain inhere, 
Part of mankind's best heritage is placed 
In thy safe keeping. Sad it were to waste 

In hard work of the hands a gift so dear. 

But shoulds't thou over from a loftier sphere 
Eeview thy life — its history retraced 
Through soul-impressions deep and uneflfaced - 

Within a world where men from year to year 

Wrought painfully in body weariness ; 
And, while thou shared'st in the pleasant use 
Of what their labor struggled to produce, 

Thy own strong arm ne'er felt the irksome stress 
Of that hard toil, — forsooth I fear a trace 
Of shame will overspread thy angel face. 



20 FIRM GROUND. 



THE SOUL'S MEASURE. 



T^OST thou of all attainments value those 
Most that enlarge thy soul ? and would'st be shown 
A sign, whereby it clearly may be known 

How much, from year to year, thy spirit grows ? 

By as much more as others' joys and woes, 
Through wider sympathy, are made thine own, 
By so much in soul stature hast thou grown. 

The bounds of personality that close 

Around uncultured spirits narrowly, 
Have been so far extended, and contain 
So much the more of conscious life's domain ; 

And so much has thy knowledge grown to be 
Like that of clearest souls, whose bounding walls 
Will cast no shadow where the soul-light falls. 



LIFE. 21 



TIME'S BEST PROMISE. 



f~\ HAPPY thou, whose daily work supplies 
To others joys, that else would never be ! 
For thine shall be the happiness and glee 

Of many hearts, and thine the goodliest prize 

The future showeth to fore-looking eyes : 
For safely are reserved in store for thee 
' Occasions for yet nobler charity, — 

It may be for sublime self-sacrifice. 

The day may come when much of that delight 
Shall in unmingled purity be thine, 
Which fills the souls of messengers divine ; 

Who, with invisible and silent flight, 

O'er the abodes of mortals have bestrown 
Dear blessings, and forever are unknown. 



22 FIRM GROUND. 



ALL SEEK THE GOOD. 



"And one far off, divine event, 
To which the whole creation moves. 



"pvESPISE thou not thy neighbor, though the goal 
Of his endeavors far remote have stood, 
From that which thine have worthily pursued. 

The good he gains may be a scanty dole ; 

Yet 'twould dishonor Him whose high control 
Directs the world, to think that aught but good 
Has been from his omnipotence endued 

With power of drawing any human soul. 

Though when into men's motives we inquire, 
Sad heedlessness of right we there may find, — 
Negations dark that shock the searching mind, — 

Yet whatsoe'er incitement prompts desire 
Is Nature's effort toward the Good to lead, 
But lacking oft just guidance for the deed. 



LIFE. 23 



LES MISERABLES. 



TF you have pity, give not the whole 

To those whose hopes are dead, though in their dirge 

The moans of present suffering sadly merge : 
Spare some to those who yet as seasons roll, 
Shall live beneath their base desires' control ; 

Whom guilty hopes and secret fears shall urge 

To ceaseless, toilsome efforts, with the scourge 
Of discontentment, while the weary soul 
No satisfying peace and rest shall find. 

In devious ways they know not, some proceed ; 

And see not far nor clearly whither lead 
The branching paths they choose : and some, not blind, 

But driven forward by resistless power, 

Approach with conscious steps the torturing hour. 



24 FIRM GROUND. 



THE ARRAIGNMENT OF CHASTISEMENT. 



I. 
TDEFORE the throne of Justice, Clemency 

In sorely punished man's behalf, arraigned 

Stern Chastisement, and thus her prayer sustained 
For lightened penance : 

" Man was never free. 
Where'er attraction drew most potently, 

His wilt has followed — could not have refrained. 

Yolition by its own law is constrained ; 
For the resultant, whatsoe'er it be, 
Of all the motives surely must prevail. 

Is't said the will might make itself a source 

Of new created counteracting force ? 
Nay, that divine prerogative would fail ! 

What would incite its use to shun the ends, 

Whereto the sum of all incentives tends ? " 



LIFE. 25 



THE ARRAIGNMENT OF CHASTISEMENT. 



IL 

T3UT Pit j, though so often for man's sake, 

With prayers of Clemency her own are blent, 
Delayed not then to utter clear dissent. 
With wonted tears, unwonted words she spake : 
" cruel kindness ! that from men would take 
Aught that has power Sin's impulse to prevent, 
Though 'twere but selfish fear of punishment ! 
Such fear's removal from the mind might make 
The nearly balanced, oscillating scale 
Of a yet guiltless will, sink to the side 
Of crime, and all the woes to crime allied. 
Then let the penalties of law not fail ! 
Not mine a wish from sinners to forefend 
Correcting Chastisement, their truest friend." 



26 FIRM GROUND. 



THE ARRAIGNMENT OF CHASTISEMENT. 



III. 
rpHEN Justice rendered judgment : " I decree 

A good and needful order of events, 

And Chastisement, my minister, from thence 

Derives his duty and authority. 

I give to all alike the right to be ; 
To all alike the right of self-defence, 
And to prevent unlawful violence 

By warding off a coming injury. 

And well with all my precepts it consents 
If one, whose unrestrained desires invade 
Another's equal right, himself is made 

To feel a hard, deterring consequence. 
If he transgress, his trespass cannot bar 
The other's right, — his own is quenched thus far." 



LIFE. 27 



THE INEVITABLE PENANCE. 



A GAINST thy penance thou wilt plead in vain 
That laws their full control o'er wills exert : 
The scourging of remorse 'twill not avert ! 

To this sad knowledge thou shalt soon attain, — 

The spirit's sufferings, like the body's pain, 
Can not be measured by the ill-desert 
The test of reason certifies. The hurt 

Thy soul will feel, if some base impulse gain 

Dominion o'er thy will, and darkly blot 

Thy life, — though much thou longest to make real 
The beauty of a noble life-ideal, — 

Will be as keen, though reason doubteth not 
That, in the struggle of that lapsing hour, 
Thy low incentives had resistless power. 



28 FIRM GROUND. 



THE MINISTRY OF REMORSE. 



D 



OES conscience with most bitter chiding speak ? 



The unremitting anguish thou must bear ! 

No work of merit, reasoning thought nor prayer 

Can cleanse thy life of stains that foully reek. 

Is there no remedy ? One only seek, — 
Let just and rigorous remorse not dare 
Thy self-abasing penance yet to spare, 

Until endurance, lasting, willing, meek, 

Imbue thy life with sweet humility. 
O penitent, unwise were thy resort 
To dull, benumbed forgetful ness, to thwart 

The painful salutary ministry 

Of one, divinely sent, who hath the power 
To add so dear a grace to thy soul's dower. 



LIFE. 29 



MEANS OF RESCUE. 



T AWS uncreated and omnipotent 
Have shaped thy being, though to sin 'twas made 
So prone. A hard lot was upon thee laid : 

Bat think not 'twas for thee malignly meant ! 

And though stern Chastisement will not relent 
When aims of thine another's right invade, 
Yet know, the Righteousness supreme, to aid 

Thy woful weakness, hath this angel sent. 

And if thou art forgiven by God or men, 
Know that a willingness to sutler pain 
And loss, for others' happiness and gain, 

Touches thy soul. 0, if thou feel it then, 

From sinful aims, that have thy will enslaved, 
Thou may'st by that love-kindling sense be saved. 



30 FIRM GROUND. 



A VISION OF FORGIVENESS. 



I. 

TN a sweet dream I viewed, with vision clear, 

A region where departed souls abode. 

Bright rivers through the blooming valleys flowed, 
And fragrant breezes murmuring soothed the ear ; 
But all the souls with sin were stained and sere. 

I marvelled and bespake an angel there : 

" Should souls like these abide in this sweet air? 
By these pure streams ? " The angel answered : " Here 
The air is God's own breath of pitying love. 

Forgiveness is diffused unseen therein, 

And gives it balmy sweetness, until sin 
Attracting from below, it from above 

Descends as rain and dew ; whence are supplied 

These streams, wherein stained souls are purified." 



LIFE. 31 



A VISION OF FORGIVENESS. 



II. 

T3 UT must not souls like these, so seared and scarred, 

Insensible to love's warm breath remain ? 

And though forgiveness wash away each stain, 
Is not their comeliness forever marred ? " 
I asked. The angel answered : " Naught so hard 

The love of Grod is shed thereon in vain ! 

These souls, though calloused deep by sin and pain, 
In this sweet air, made warm by his regard, 
At length will feel a softening influence, 

Melting the indurations sin has made. 

Then knowledge of the good must needs pervade 
Each soul, and rouse such holy penitence, 

The pardon freely poured in these pure streams 

Will cleanse its stains, and heal its scars and seams." 



32 FIRM GROUND. 



RECTITUDE. 



"YTTHEN hard and painful hindrance has withstood 

Thy course, pursuing Duty's paths that lie 

Distinctly traceable to every eye, 
And fair words in thy mind's more troubled mood, 
Have promised thy desires undoubted good, 

That far outweighed all ills thou couldst descry 

Borne in the consequence, to justify 
One slight departure from thy rectitude ; 
If still thy moral precepts held control, 

And from the right thou did'st not turn, aside, 

Thy human soul has proved itself allied 
Most closely to the great majestic Soul 

Of Nature, who will not, for any cause, 

Depart the least from her eternal laws. 



X 



LIFE. 33 



DISCERNMENT OF RIGHT THROUGH 
SYMPATHY. 



rp HE lines of good and evil consequence 
That radiate afar from every deed, 
Thou wilt not clearly see nor justly heed, 

Unless endowed with sympathetic sense 

Of others' joys and griefs. And only thence 
Arises thy clear knowledge of the need 
Of self-restraint, determined and decreed 

By rights of others, for their just defence. 

Therefore to make thy moral impulse strong, 
Its aim unfaltering and its scope defined, 
Strive evermore to form within thy mind 

The feelings that to other lives belong ; 

And, on that stepping stone, rise to the sight 
Of the divine, unchanging laws of right. 



34 FIRM GROUND. 



THE HIGHEST UTILITY. 



rp HE soul must rise above the selfish care 
That so beclouds its vision, ere its view 
Of human life, impersonal and true, 
And well defining, renders it aware 
Of that which is forever good and fair ; 

Which for itself the right unquestioned claims 
To arbitrate between conflicting aims ; 
Whose seal on Duty's warrant places there 
Authority that may not be withstood ; 

Whose umpirage alone can bring the strife 
Between the various elements of life 
To that accord which is the highest good ; 
Whose clear decision seems a high behest 
To conscience in the name of Grod addressed. 



LIFE. 35 



CLEAR ASSURANCE. 



"If thou workest at that which is before thee, 
following right reason, seriously, vigorously, 
calmly, without allowing anything to distract 

thee, " 

I. 

rpHEEE is too much on earth to mourn and rue, 
Too much of body pain in every land, 
And agony of soul, when thou hast scanned 

Our human life, to take a mirthful view ! 

0, soberly and vigorously pursue 

The task required by duty at thy hand : 
Ne'er let a vagrant impulse make demand 

Upon endeavors to thy life-work due. 

And, trusting God's great purpose doth enclose 
The purposes wherewith his creatures act, 
Accept with equal tolerance each fact, 

Whether it aid thy efforts or oppose ; 
As unperturbed, if they in failure end, 
As if success their final zeal attend. 



36 FIRM GROUND. 



CLEAR ASSURANCE. 



"But keeping thy divine part pure, as if thou 
should'st be bound to give it back immedately." 

II 

"T3E mindful always that thou art a child 

Of Nature's hope. The God-like soul, on earth 

Became once more incarnate at thy birth. 

Watch well ! keep thy divine part un denied, 

Unvexed by envy, calmly reconciled 

To whatsoe'er for thee the years bring forth — 
Disease, toil, penury, unhonored worth. 

Keep thy heart's feelings sweet and kind and mild, 

Though haughty glances of the unworthy proud 
Cast on thy merit unprovoked disdain ; 
And let no selfish purpose with its train 

Of troubling cares, even for a day becloud 
The clearness of thy spirit, making dull 
Thy vision of the good and beautiful. 



LIFE. 87 



CLEAR ASSURANCE. 



If thou holdest to this, expecting nothing 



and fearing nothing, 



III. 



"IVTOT as it looks, will be thy coming state. 
It falsely looms to both thy hopes and fears. 
Unwise is he, with prying eye, who peers 

'Neath the unturned pages of the book of fate. 

Yet whether good or evil hours await 
Thy coming in the far successive years, 
Thou may'st foreknow by that which now appears — 

All thou should'st wish to know may'st calculate. 

For in thy heart's affections thou can'st see 
What thou becomest as the days go by : 
Think not by skilled device to modify 

The strict fulfillment of the high decree, 

That more and more like the sublime or low 
Ideals thou dost cherish, thou shalt grow. 



38 FIRM GROUND. 



CLEAR ASSURANCE 



a 



But satisfied -with thy present activity ac- 



cording to nature, " 

IV. 

GAY not all blessings of thy husbandry 
Are insecure until the groaning wain 
Bears to thy barn the shocks of golden grain! 

One harvest was already ripe for thee 

While yet unseeded lay thy fallow lea : — 
A harvest that without the summer rain 
May wave abundantly upon the plain, 

For souls to reap with glad festivity. 

0, tiller, though thy fields yield no increase, 
Because the fleeting clouds their rain refuse, 
Its best reward thy labor need not lose ; 

For thine may be the sweet contentful peace 
The soul may draw from willing, worthy doing, 
While yet the still eluding end pursuing. 



LIFE. 39 



CLEAR ASSURANCE. 



" And with heroic truth in every word and 

sound which thou utterest, thou shalt live happy." 

Thoughts of 31. Aurelius Antoninus. 

V. 

T3ITT little harm thy error works to thee, 

Though it continue long, unless, indeed, 
Through self-deception to it thou accede. 

Of that beware ! Thy lasting hurt 'twill be ! 

For if in willfulness thou yield the key 
That opes the soul for Truth to enter in, 
Unto her enemy, how can she win 

Thenceforth an entrance ? O, watch jealously, 

If veiled desire persuasively entreat 
Thy reason for the form of an assent, 
To give some fair or subtile argument 

Admittance into Truth's peculiar seat ! 
Lest treason to the truth, within thy soul, 
Deliver it to falsehood's hard control. 



40 FIKM GKOUNL>. 



THE PRAYER OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 



I. 

"TTTHEN thy best efforts fail, when day by day 
Thy heart grows sick of hope deferred, and still 
New obstacles arise, and omens ill 

Threaten thy future, art thou moved to pray ? 

'Tis well the good incentive to obey. 
Pray for a confirmation of thy will 
In fealty to duty — to fulfill 

All her behests till she commands to stay 

The strife, — ■ from unavailing toil to rest. 
But with all precious benefits of prayer — 
Peace, strengthened purpose, fortitude to bear 

Life's evils, thou shalt be most richly blest 
If, all thy heart's desires comprised in one, 
Thou art content to pray — " Thy will be done." 



LIFE. 41 



THE PRAYER OF THE RIGHTEOUS, 



II. 

"T^OST thou desire the Father of us all 
To watch with kindlier providence o'er thee 
Than others ? and with importunity 

Of strong desires, dost thou upon Him call, 
That special influence from heaven may fall 

To bring some lingering joy more speedily ? 

m 

Or heal thee of thy grievous malady 
When thoughts of early death thy breast appall ? 
Not mine a wish to lessen aught thv trust 
In power divine. Yet, haply, better aid 
Had been received, if thus thy heart had praj'ed 
Father, Thou to all art good and just ; 
To help my hope to bloom, mj^self to live, 
I ask no more than thou to all dost give. 



42 FIRM GROUND. 



ELIHU'S ARGUMENT. 



"If thou art righteous, what givest thou to 
Him?" 

I 

""□TEAR me, Job, and heed my words. Although 
Upon the name of the Most High thou call, 
And render truth and righteousness to all, — 

Yea, on the worthy poor thy wealth bestow, — 

The wind from out the wilderness will blow 

As strongly, though it strike thy dwelling's wall ; 
The fire of heaven as fatally will fall, 

Although the flocks be thine that graze below. 

For thinkest thou thy goodness will augment 
His changeless love ? Or, emulous of thine, 
More active grow benevolence divine ? 

His goodness never sleeps ! His powers are sent 
To do their needful tasks, and in each work 
Of seeming waste, conserving efforts lurk. 



LIFE. 43 



ELIHU'S ARGUMENT. 



"If thou hast sinned, ^?vhat dost thou against 
Him?" 

II. 

j~F thou should'st scorn Jehovah's high behest ; 

Should'st hear unmoved the orphan's cry of pain ; 

And all the toil-won harvest should'st retain, 
Though famine sore upon thy plowmen pressed ; 
The clouds of Grod above thy fields would rest, 

And shed the early and the latter rain ; 

Nor thorns nor weeds would lessen aught the gain 
Of barle}^ or of wheat thou gatherest. 
Would thy weak wickedness repel the love 

Of the Almighty, when with bounteous hand 

He sows the seed of plenty on thy land ? 
Behold the skies, how far they stretch above ! 

So high is He, howe'er thy sins increase, 

Eesentment will not mar His holy peace. 



41 FIRM GROUND. 



ELIHU'S ARGUMENT. 



" Fop a man like thyself is thy wrong, and for a 
son of man thy righteousness." 

III. 

T3UT if to all thou render righteously, 
And for all kindly deeds thy loins thou gird, 
On men a benefit will be conferred, 

That haply yet may reach far years to be. 
) And thou shalt treasure in thy memory 

Full many a thankful look and grateful word, — 
Perhaps of some whose hope fled ere they heard 

Thy footfalls, bringing rescue sure with thee. 

The blessings which the humble poor will breathe 
Upon thee, through each pathway thou shalt trace, 
Will follow thee to thy last resting place. 

There, while thou sleepest peacefully beneath, 
Like a low cloud, that outbreathed .gratitude 
On thy remembered grave will seem to brood. 



LIFE. 45 



THE RETROSPECT. 



Consciousness comes after bliss." 



/^vUR lives are often happier than we know. 
The waters of each stream of life discrete, 
Through all their depth and width with joy are sweet, 

Whether they roughly rush or smoothly flow. 

Pleasures are ripples bright that seaward go ; 
But if the current adverse influence meet, 
The waves upheaved and moved in forced retreat 

Against the stream, are surges of life's woe. 

And consciousness doth on the surface seem 
To feel both waves and ripples, but it sinks 
Seldom into the depths, nor often drinks 

Of the profounder sweetness of the stream : — 
But o'er the past if pensive Memory sweep, 
She sees how bright the current and how deep. 



4() FIRM GROUND. 



REACHING FORTH. 



rpHOUGrH fondly we review both hopes and fears, 
The joys and even the griefs that once we knew, 
We never wish again to live them through. 

'Tis not because in that dead past appears 

Too much of irksome toil, too many tears ; 
Nor yet because of doubt if Memory's view 
Of the delights they held be just and true, 

That back to life we would not call those years. 

We feel that should our vanished joys revive, 
They would not satisfy to-day's desire. 
Thought dwells on them as earnest of the higher 

And more complete delights for which we strive — 
Spurred ever onward by the hope of bliss, 
More satisfying than has been, or is. 



LIFE. 47 



THE ESTRANGEMENT OF HAPPINESS. 



I. 

rpO neither past nor future giving heed, 

At first the soul enjoyed the present good ; 
And Happiness bestowed beatitude 

That well sufficed for all the present need. 

But soon as Hope came, promising to lead 
To bliss that in the distance dimly viewed, 
With perfect sweetness seemed to be imbued, 

And from the unsatisfying wholly freed, 

The soul grew eager for the yet uDgained ; 
And, pressing forward with continual haste, 
Would scarcely linger long enough to taste 

The offered joys that present hours contained. 
Thus Happiness was first estranged, aggrieved 
Because her favors were so ill received. 



48 FIRM GROUND. 



THE ESTRANGEMENT OF HAPPINESS. 



II. 

■ r ~PHE soul, Hope-led, was prompted to pursue 
Expected joys by Memory, who placed 
In sight her tablets, whereupon were traced 
Pictures that seemed of future bliss a view, 
Though all their soft, harmonious tints were due 
To the refracted radiance from the past. 
But when the longed-for joys were reached at last, 
Harsh Memory, with rude words and untrue, 
Chided the present Happiness, complaining 

That all the former sweetness had been changed. 
Thus Happiness was finally estranged 
From the pursuing soul, — thenceforth remaining 
Most disappointing and averse forever, 
To those who seek most eagerly her favor. 



LIFE. 49 



THE ESTRANGEMENT OF HAPPINESS. 



III. 
O TILL Happiness remembers tenderly 

Her old love for the soul, before the day 

When Hope's eye wounded her with scornful ray, 
Ere she had borne the blame of memory. 
And sometimes, when with such authority 

Duty commands, the whole will doth obey ; 

Or when the visionary thoughts survey 
Some lofty phase of Nature's harmony ; 
And Hope in awe and silent reverence lets 

Pursuit abate, while Memory holds in view 

Only her records of the always true, 
All her estrangement Happiness forgets, 

And lavishes upon the soul once more 

Her favor, still more precious than before. 



50 FIRM GROUND. 



UNHONORED WORTH. 



"All that Nature made thy own 
Will like thy shadow follow thee." 



A RT slighted and neglected ? Dost consume, 
Unloved, the number of thy earthly days ? 
Who most deserves the tribute pity pays ? 

If beauteous, amiable light illume 

Thy inner soul, how sad the torpid gloom 
Of any heart, that 'neath the warming rays 
Out-streaming from thy spirit, yet delays 

To beautify itself with love's sweet bloom ! 

Or other minds perhaps do not admire m 

Thy natural gifts — do not to thee assign 
The rank among thy peers that should be thine ;- 

For shame ! Insult not Nature ! Why require 
Of others confirmation and assent, 
To make thee with her chosen gifts content? 



LIFE. 51 



"THOUGH NAUGHT THEY MAY TO 
OTHERS BE." 



TF in these thoughts of mine that now assuage 
The tedium of the toilsome life I live, 

The few who chance to notice should perceive 
Nothing their lasting interest to engage, 
And quickly cease to turn the farther page, 

It were a shameful thing if I should grieve. 

For if kind Destiny has chosen to give 
To other minds, in many a clime and age, 
Days brighter than my hours, should I repine ? 

And what if by an over-hasty glance 

Some import be not heeded, or, perchance, 
Too dim a light upon the pages shine ? 

Would I be wronged, even though the wealth I own 

And not the less enjoy, were all unknown ? 



52 FIRM GROUND. 



PERPETUAL YOUTH. 



And ever beautiful and young remains 
Whom the divine ambrosia sustains. 



rpHE days of youth ! The days of glad life-gain ! 

How bright in retrospection they appear ! 

Yet standing in my manhood's stature here, 
I ask not Time his fleet hours to refrain. 
The joyance of those days may yet remain. 

Fly on swift seasons ! Not with grief or fear 

I see your speed increase from year to year ; — 
The soul may still its bouyant youth retain ! 
May, if supplied with its celestial food, 

Forever keep so young it will not cease 

To grow in strength, in stature to increase 
Through all its days, whate'er their multitude. 

And lo, ambrosia plentifully grows 

On many a field through which thought, culling, goes. 



LIFE. 53 



SOUL-FOOD. 



" Whence all our spiritual food is brought.' 



"^J~OT every truth can nourish. It behooves 
A soul to choose its food with care aright, 
If it would grow in the pure spirit's might. 

Yainly, with science for its guide, it roves 

In search of truth, and clearly parts and proves. 
Unless the verities its guiding light- 
Discovers and illumines to its sight, 

Augment the objects it admires and loves. 

For only when the soul in love extends 
Its sympathy to other life, — acquires 
Similitude to that which it admires, 

And thus itself with other being blends, 

It finds its proper, growth-promoting food — 
Experience of the beautiful and good. 



54 FIRM GROUND. 



DISCERNMENT OF THE GOOD AND 
BEAUTIFUL. 



" And you must love before to you 
There will seem worthiness of love." 



rpHAT all the seasons may bring forth for thee 
Soul-food in thought's wide fields, however wise 
And dilligent thy tilth, 'twill not suffice 

Unless from selfish care thy mind is free. 

The light that to those tender plants shall be 
Most genial is the light of searching eyes 
Long gazing ; and the loving heart supplies 

The warmth that makes them bloom most fragrantly. 

If thou art heedful thus thy land to till, 
Within thy mind's domain there is no field, 
So cold and barren, but has power to yield 

Ambrosia, and with joy thy soul to fill. 

And others to thy garnered store will haste, 

To share with thee the sweets that else would waste. 



LIFE. 55 



"THE SOUL IS DYED BY THE 
THOUGHTS." 



rpHE objects whereto the affections move 

Tinge them with their own hues of good and ill : 

And thus related to the soul, instill 
Their qualities through all its source of love. 
Hence his affection who has naught thereof 

For anything except himself and thee, 

Soon palls the taste with insipidity : J 
While his, so large and free it is enough 
For thee and all things that are fair and good, 

Comes to thee filled with fragrance taken up 

From eyery overflowing flower cup 
That tints the light of garden, field or wood, 

Wherein his steps in blissful moods have wended, 

When the plant-souls with his in love were blended. 



56 FIRM GROUND. 



KINSHIP. 



"So light yet sure the bond that binds the wo rid." 



T FOUJSTD beside a meadow brooklet bright, 

Spring flowers, whose tranquil beauty seemed to give 
Glad answers as to whence and why we live. 
"With pleased delay I lingered while I might, 
Because I thought when they were out of sight, 
ISTo more of joy from them I should receive. 
But now I know absence cannot bereave 
Their loveliness of power to give delight, 
For still my soul with theirs sweet converse holds, 
Through sense more intimate and blest than seeing ; — 
A bond of kindred, that includes all being, 
Our lives in conscious union now infolds. 
And 0, to me it is enough of bliss 
To know I am, and that such beauty is. 






LIFE. O / 



SCORN 



"Which wisdom holds unlawful ever." 



TF on a child of Nature thou bestow 

A scornful thought, a grievous punishment 
Is thine ; for now no longer evident 

Are loving looks Nature was wont to show. 

Yet alters not her favor toward thee so ; — 
Not really does she thy scorn resent ; 
Her heart is too full of divine content 

To feel the troubling passions mortals know. 

'Tis thou, by harboring unjust disdain 

Within thy selfish bosom, who hast marred 
The beaming tenderness of her regard. 

Thy sympathy with her is less, in vain 

Is now each kindly look of hers, each smile 
Of favor thou did'st oft enjoy erewhile. 



58 FIRM GROUND. 



OPPORTUNITY. 



TTAS thy pursuit of knowledge been confined 
Within a narrow range by penury, 
And by the hands' hard toil required of thee ? 
0, sorely tried ! But if God had designed 
A strong, divinely gifted human mind 

Should in the world appear, and grow to be 
A grand exemplar of humanity, 
Perhaps his wisdom, provident and kind, 
Seeking a time and place upon the earth, 

Wherein such noble life might grow and bear 
Its perfect fruitage, beautiful and rare, 
Would choose and foreordain, tried soul, a birth 
Like that assigned to thee ! 0, squander not 
The opportunity given in thy lot. 



LIFE. f>9 



TRIUMPH. 



npHOUGrH hard surroundings, like unsparing foes, 
Against thee have prevailed, a victory 
May yet be thine, and noble life may be 

The trophy which thy triumph will disclose. 

The world's great prizes thou must leave for those 
Of better fortune ! Yield them willingly : 
By so much more thy virtue shall be free 

From trammels selfish cares on it impose. 

Famed, far off landscapes thou shalt never view ! 
Submit : the bliss denied thee do not crave ; 
And thy attentive soul a sight may have 

Of the omnipresent beautiful and true, 

So clear, 'twill bring thee nearer to thy Grod, 
Than if thou sought'st his wonders far abroad. 



60 FIRM GROUND 



"AN IDLER IN THE LAND." 



rpHE Highest One, I trust, will not despise 
Thy life's oblation, though it be but hours 
Of gratitude and wonder ; for in bowers 
Of wildest woodland that remotely lies, 
Known only to the bee that hath not eyes 
For finer lines and hues, he bids his powers 
Cherish most delicately tinted flowers ; 
Assuring thus our hearts that he doth prize 
For its own sake the beauty, pure and lowly, 
Of fruitless blossoms. Can he value less 
The dearer, unobtrusive comeliness 
Of a meek human soul, devout and holy ; 
Even if, in humbleness of life unknown, 
Conspicuous virtues it have never shown? 



LIFE. 6L 



CONSUMMATION. 



The grand results of Time." 



'H^ WAS needful that with life of low degree 
Bat slowly rising, long the earth should teem 
Ere man was born ; and still the guiding scheme 

Seemed not to rest in full maturity. 

For Nature since has so assiduously 

Cherished his growth in spirit, it would seem 
That lofty human souls, in her esteem, 

Are the best trophies of her husbandry. 

And now, as if she neared her final aim, 
She sheds upon them with conspicuous care 
Each fruitful influence, that they may bear 

Great and pure thoughts and deeds of noble fame ; — 
As if her crowning joy were to transmute 
The sum of Time's results into soul-fruit 



62 FIRM GROUND. 



SOUL-SYMMETRY. 



~^TOT to win great successes in the fray 

Of right with wrong, nor to create some mould 
Of beauty distant ages shall behold, 

The purpose of thy life should choose its way : — 

The evidence but not the substance they — 
The blossoms that in due time will unfold : 
But if thy rude haste has the bud unrolled, 

Their beauty withers in a summer's day. 

Then let the soul in its integrity 

Be nourished well, and if it come to bear 
Such blooming splendor, far-renowned and rare, 

That distant eyes flock thitherward to see ; 
Or only leaves, its symmetry shall tell 
Of healthful growth : — 'twill please the Master well. 



LIFE. 63 



IN UNISON. 



HV/TAY nevermore a selfish wish of mine 
Grow to a deed, unless a greater care 
For others' welfare in the incitement share. 
Nature, let my purposes combine, 
Henceforth, in conscious unison with thine, — 
To spread abroad Grod's gladness and declare 
In living form what is forever fair. 
Meekly to labor in thy great design, 
0, let my little life be given whole ! 
If so, by action or by suffering, 
Joy to my fellow creatures I may bring ; 
Or, in the lowly likeness of my soul, 
To beautiful creation's countless store 
One form of beauty may be added more. 



64 FIRM GROUND. 



DISINTHRALLMENT 



T^OST strive against thy selfishness in vain ? s 

Though grieved and shamed that it so oft should fill 
Thy weary breast with wrangling clamor, still 
Do low importunate desires remain 
To vex thy peace of soul ? Thou shalt attain 
Thy freedom not alone by power of will 
And lofty aspiration ; not until 
Thou makest others' benefit and gain 
The object of thy earnest, strong endeavor. 
And think not even then to disin thrall 
Thy soul from selfish longings once for all, 
Thou must again strive on and on forever 
Towards larger liberty. Yet it may be, 
Death will have power at once to set thee free. 



LIFE. 65 



LIVE WHILE YOU LIVE. 



A VIEW of present life is all thou hast ! 

Oblivion's cloud, like a high-reaching wall, 

Conceals thy former being, and a pall 
Hangs o'er the gate through which thou'lt soon have 

passed. 
Dost chafe, in these close bounds imprisoned fast? 

Perhaps thy spirit's memory needs, withal, 

Such limits, lest vague dimness should befall 
Its records of a life-duration vast. 
And artfully thy sight may be confined 

While thou art dwelling on this earthly isle, 

That its exceeding beauty may, the while, 
Infuse itself within thy growing mind, 

And fit thee, in some future state sublime, 

Haply, to grasp a wider range of time. 



66 FIRM GROUND. 



[MEMENTO MORI. 



T OOK, soul, how swiftly all things onward tend ! 

Such universal haste betokens need 

In Destiny's design of pressing speed. 
Speed thou, stay not until thou reach the end ! 
Upon the haste of Time there may depend 

Some far-off good. Thou child of Time, give heed, 

That with a willing heart and ready deed, 
To Time's great haste thy dole of speed thou lend ! 
Though beauteous scenes thy onward steps would stay, 

Press forward toward the Goal that beckons thee — 

The unimagined possibility 
Of all the mighty future to assay ! 

And when thou drawest near thy hour to die, 

Kejoice that one accomplishment is nigh. 



LIFE. 67 



"REASON THUS WITH LIFE. 



1 5 



f^\ LIFE of mine ! I am not well assured, 
That the isolation separating thee 
From boundless being would forever be 

Thy highest good. Still to be thus immured 

May well be deemed a precious boon, procured 
For none but favorites of Destiny ; — 
Even though the walls of personality, 

When for a little season they've endured, 

Into the Unlimited must surely melt. 
For if thine isolation had not been, 
Sweet life, the many joys of thoughts serene 

That have been mine, had not as mine been felt : 
Still, had'st thou been not wholly separate, 
Joys might have been yet more serene and great. 



68 FIRM GROUND. 



SURE CONFIDENCE. 



"When I heard the Earth song,— " 
I was no more dismayed. 



"TTTHEN I reflect on Nature's mighty past, 
That far transcends the comprehending mind ; 
And countless years through which it seems designed 

Her unexhausted lifetime yet shall last ; 

And then with these durations, dim and vast, 
Compare the little space before, behind, 
Wherein my earthly being is confined, 

What trivial ty on this poor life is cast ! — 

Unless my soul clings to one truth sublime ; 
Whereby its self-assurance still it keeps 
While gazing into those abysmal deeps : — 

I'm part of that which was throughout a time 
That reaches far back in eternity, 
And part of that which yet so long shall be. 



LIFE. 69 



FEARLESS. 



"[ TPON Life's sea how high the billows surge ! 

soul, each bark has need its prow to keep 
Directed well against the wave-fronts steep, 

Nor let from that one line its course diverge. 
But fearest not when such strong waves shall urge 
Thy fragile skiff, such furious tempests sweep 

Thee, helpless, over the tumultuous deep, 
They'll speedily thy being quite submerge ? 
Nay, my eternal home is that great sea ! 

Then why should I, though all unskilled and frail, 
Tremble at coming storms, and fear to sail 
The arduous voyage of my destiny ? 

1 can but sink again, when tempest-spent, 
Into my home and native element. 



70 FIRM GROUND. 



DEATH THE RENEWER. 



?rp WAS in far ancient days it did befall : 
The forms of Nature, filling all the space 
Of their abode, had lost their youthful grace ; - 

The years were sadly withering great and small. 

And when the gods met in their council hall 
To choose out one among their mighty race, 
Who should renew the faded earth's wan face, 

None could perform the task among them all, — 

So strictly do the laws of Fate restrain 

Each to his proper work — save one alone ; 
Death felt the arduous duty was his own. 

Therefore, the sacred synod did ordain, 

And for all time was passed the high decree, 
That Death thenceforth should the Renewer be. 



LIFE. 71 



DEATH AND LOVE 



rnOWAED Death Love beareth enmity so great, 
From bitter words he can refrain not long, 
Though hushing fears within his breast are strong. 
And once Death cried to Jove against such hate : 
" I, serving Life most loyally, whom Fate 
Decrees my master, bear a grievous wrong ; 
For Love, Life's pensioner, oft joins the throng 
Of them that name me but to execrate ! " 
Then Jove replied, " Was it ne'er told to thee 

How blind Love is ? He is Life's careful friend ; - 
Thy work in dissolution seems to end, 
And so thou seem'st to him Life's enemy. 
For Love, with his dim vision, the return 
Thou renderest unto Life cannot discern." 



72 FIRM GROUND. 



THE GUILE OF NATURE. 



rpHOU knowest somewhat of Nature's strategems, 

Ofttimes, by strong desire, she moves thy will 

To deeds that profit not thyself, but still 
Are needed to promote her cherished schemes : 
And such thy love of earthly being seems, 

And fear of death's undemonstrated ill. 

'Tis needful that these human ranks we fill 
A little longer here as Nature deems ; 
So to our weary life vague hope she brings, 

And stills with fear the discontented breast ; 

Lest souls become enamored of their rest, 
And earth too soon abandoned of her kings ; 

Lest dire disorder and calamity 

Befall the plans of highest Destiny 



LIFE. 73 



EUTHANASIA. 



O EEING our lives by Nature now are led 
In an appointed way so tenderly ; 
So often lured by Hope's expectancy ; 
So seldom driven by scourging pain and dread 
And though by destiny still limited 

Insuperably, our pleasant paths seem free : — 
May we not trust it ever thus shall be ? 
That when we come the lonely vale to tread, 
Leading away into the unknown night, 
Oar mother then, kindly persuasive still, 
Shall gently temper the reluctant will ? 
So, haply, we shall feel a strange delight, 
Even that dreary way to travel o'er, 
And the mysterious realm beyond explore. 



PROLOGUE TO PART II. 



'rp IS needful there should be some stable forms 

Of faith, to give a resting place and stay- 
To wavering virtue, lest the furious storms 

Of evil impulse bear the soul away. 

'Tis needful that on conscious truth we lay 
Foundations for the forms of faith, so sure, 

That come the sweeping tempests whence they may, 
Resting upon unmoving rock secure, 
Those soul-sustaining forms unshaken shall endure. 



76 FIRM GROUND. 

And well I trust all earnest souls, if each 

Delve in the soil whereon its life has grown, 

A sure foundation for their faith may reach. 
I 

The seeming and uncertain are bestrown 
O'er all experience, yet the surely known, 
Whose truthfulness all minds may apprehend, 

Lies underneath — firm as the floors of stone 
Below earth's varied surface, that extend 
The same where valleys sink and stately hills ascend. 

brother, though I seem not well to found 
My joy and confidence in love divine, 

Though only few have chosen adjacent ground, 
Whose surface seems to give as doubtful sign 
Of solid rock beneath as this of mine, 

Whereon to build belief ; although thou trace 
No common stay between my faith and thine, 

Connecting while it severs them in space, 

Yet deeply they may rest upon the same sure base. 



PKOLOGUE TO PAET II. 77 

And if the edifice of faith I rear 

Upon foundations that have seemed to me 

Both steadfast and secure, to thee appear 
Of scant dimensions, blame not hastily 
The ground whereon it rests. It well may be 

If I had delved more widely, and laid bare 
A broader underlying certainty, 

A risen structure would have stood even there, 

As high as thou hast built — as stately and as fair. 

Yet, brother, scorn not the abode wherein 
My soul with peace and comfort doth reside ; 

For it hath spacious, lightsome rooms within : 
Hath one with outlook unobscured and wide, 
Whereinto shine the stars on every side ; 

Where hope finds refuge when by fear sore pressed. 
For signs of Highest Goodness, verified 

By clear responses heard within the breast, 

Have builded for my soul a bower of holy rest 



78 FIRM GROUND. 

Hath one, that often to the externally 
Beholding, shows a gloomy look within ; 

For evidence of sad necessity 

Kequiring conflict, suffering and sin, 
And all the ills that are, or e'er have been 

Hath reared its walls : yet if my spirit choose 
Therein to dwell awhile, its sight can win, 

Of human life and ruling laws, such views 

As with contentful peace the feeling thought infuse. 

It hath another, whose transparent sides 
Consist of clear persuasions that all light 

Has come from heaven. Within it Doubt abides, 
And for all outward radiance claims a right 
To enter — both the beautiful and bright 

And that which clouds reflect of sombre hue. 
Yet oft my soul there stays the livelong night : 

For in the darksome hours 'tis only through 

Clear, crystal walls can pass gleams of the fair and true. 



PKOLOGUE TO PART II. 79 

And one, whose consecrated space no sound 
But thanksgiving and adoration knows. 

Confirmed beliefs in Mind that hath no bound, 
And in all being lives and rules, compose 
The lasting structure of its walls that rose 

As if by power of music ; when the sign 
Of conscious purpose, Nature often shows, 

Did with the reasoning consciousness combine 

To form a silent chord — faith in a Thought Divine. 



PART II. 



FAITH 



LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 



" Though Nature, red in tooth and claw, 
With ravin shrieked against his creed." 



TTTOW oft, when seamen on a wreck from whence 
The foaming billows soon must sweep them, plead 
With Heaven for help in that drear hour of need, 

The storm roars on, none of its rage relents ! 

Such harsh succession of the earth's events, 
And early deaths whereof there seems no heed 
In Nature's heart, might make us doubt, indeed, 

If aught but selfish strife of the elements, 

The ordinations of the world controls ! 
Yet in the Uncreated there must be 
A source of predetermined tendency 

Which shapes at least a few sweet human souls — 
Of goodness and of beauty types serene — 
Else one my heart has loved would ne'er have been. 



84 FIRM GROUND. 



FIDET FUNDAMENTUM. 



If I but remember only, 

Such as these have lived and died." 



"A j/TY soul's grief can not rightfully atone 
Even for one hour of an ungrateful mood. 
Our blessings lay a debt of gratitude 

Upon us, that remains when they have flown. 

Sweet, disembodied soul ! 0, you have shown, 
In the unselfish aims your life pursued, 
So clear an evidence that Grod is good, 

My trust in Him no faltering should have known ; 

Nor can I ever with just reason fear 

As one who feels no firm ground for his faith ; 
Even though you were not saved from early death 

Even though I never more on earth shall hear 
The soft tones of your words so true and wise, 
Nor see the tender glow of your dear eyes. 



FAITH. 85 



NO SECONDARY CAUSE OF LOVE. 



"^TO chance from selfish motives could compose 

The unselfish goodness we have known to be. 

That which in human hearts we sometimes see, 
In Nature's heart pure goodness doth disclose. 
Search ye its forming cause ? Your science throws 

In vain its light upon that mjsterj^. 

Thou Cause beyond our knowledge ! thanks to thee 
For all unselfish love life ever shows : — 
For every action of self sacrifice, 

Country or race or kindred to defend ; 

For every kindly thought of friend for friend 
That e'er was told by looks of meeting eyes, 

Whereby our doubting minds may clearly prove 

That in thy Being is a source of love. 



86 FIRM GROUND. 



UBIQUE ET SEMPER. 



I. 

~T OYE that regards not self we daily feel ! 

Kejoice my soul, that thou such love dost know ; 
And should the wise, denning clearly, show 

The power of love, with its true warmth and zeal, 

In many an instinct lower lives reveal, 
Rejoice no less. But on no aim bestow 
The name of love unless it outward go — 

Abandon self to work another's weal. 

O spirit of Love, dost thoa indeed pervade 
All the degrees of Being ? All the more 
Will I thy omnipresent power adore ! 

Although thy function in each lower grade 
Dim knowledge to our minds of thee imparts, 
'Till thou revealest thyself in human hearts. 



FAITH. 87 



UBIQUE ET SEMPER. 



II. 

O HOW me that lower instincts have ascended 

During vast time in slow gradation due, 
'Till to the height of human love they grew ! 

Yea, even that these arose from force expended 

In orbits of primeval atoms blended 

In the old chaos ! Joyful were such view 
Of the unselfish impulse, active through 

The world's vast former lifetime, and extended 

Beyond into eternity foregone. 

If ancient atom-pulses have become 
Through favoring concurrence, in their sum, 

Motives that to all kindly deeds lead on 

The human soul, doubt not they always strove 
In the direction, with the aim of love. 



88 FIRM GROUND. 



"HE THAT FORMED THE EYE SHALL 

HE NOT SEE?" 



TF love has been created, if it flows 
Not forth immediately from the Divine ; 
If to bring aught to pass along some line 
Of His great scheme, it pleased Glod to compose 
Love out of elements that ne'er disclose 

The power and aim of love till they combine, 
The inward thought that must be, ere design 
To outward, realized existence grows, 
Would still support our trust that God is good. 
Though He who formed the eye see not with eyes, 
Yet must the earliest purpose to devise 
Sight for the yet unseeing, have pursued, 
As final object, that which adumbrated 
The vision then existing, uncreated. 



FAITH. 89 



REVEALED. 



C^\ JUDGrE not Nature by the mantle cold 
That wraps the wintry earth and all its graves, 

Nor by the summer landscape as it waves 
Beneath the breeze. To thee was never told 
The meaning those external views infold ; 

In vain thy soul with theirs communion craves. 

But if the power of life to thee yet saves 
Dear human fellowship, and thou canst hold 
Within thy heart the joys and griefs that swell 

Another's heart, whene'er with blest surprise 

Deeply-illumined, softly-glowing eyes 
Meet with thy own, thou understandest well 

What Nature then reveals to thee. 0, rest 

Thy thought of her on what thou knowest best. 



90 FIRM GROUND. 



NO WASTE OF LIFE. 
— 

And early deaths whereof there seems no heed 
In Nature's heart, 



THTEAR what self- vindicating Nature saith : — 

" In hymeneal songs I tell my mirth. 

My yearning endeth in each new life's birth. 
That fullness of my love inheriteth. 
My hardest strife is to prolong the breath 

Of helpless young, in danger, cold and dearth. 

My tears in parents' eyes bedew the earth 
Beside the monuments of early death. 
I, heedless that so many must forego 

Life's sweetness after one short moment's taste? 

Each brief existence proves I will not waste 
One drop of precious life, but will bestow 

On each, with equal, unremitting care, 

Its least and greatest law-appointed share." 



FAITH. 91 



THE EARLIEST NEED 



"That self might be annulled— its bondage prove 
The fetters of a dream opposed to love." 



ly/TOURN that man's soul is selfish, but defame 
Not Nature. Thy regrets 't will soothe to heed 
His spirit's adolescence. Thou 'It concede 

One want may his first efforts justly claim. 

To grow must needs be the young soul's first aim, 
Yea, duty ! and the motives which this need 
Begets, and rears into accomplished deed, 

Though selfish, do not all deserve thy blame. 

When such maturity the soul attains, 

That care of self may cease, then it extends 
Its sympathy to other Jives, and blends 

Its joy with theirs, its sorrow with their pains ; 
And finds through consciousness of brotherhood 
Its own desire sufficed by others' srood. 



92 FIRM GROUND 



COMPLAINTS AND ANSWERS. 



I. 

"YTTHEREFORE, Nature, thy excessive zeal? 

Thy aims are doubtless right but oft the deed 

Of time and place appears to take no heed, 
And therefore not to reach the general weal. 
'T is not that thou should'st less profusely deal : — 

We chide thee not because the ripened seed 

So oft surpasses all apparent need — 
Such care thou seemest for thy types to feel. 
But when thou seest death invade our life, 

'Gainst his approach thou dost protest through pain, 

Sometimes prevailing, and sometimes in vain : 
why, when hope remains not in the strife, 

Dost thou prolong thy ineffectual plea 

Of agony, for life that cannot be ? 



FAITH. 93 



COMPLAINTS AND ANSWERS 



II. 

rpHINK not, my children, that the spring's bare plain 

Alone incites my care of seeds, — know ye, 

The very germs of life are dear to me, 
Although their hope of growth they ne'er attain. 
And call not fruitless pangs my protest vain 

Against the near destroying power I see 

Approach a life I love too tenderly. 
Behold the struggling life itself is pain ! 
And can ye find it in your hearts to blame 

My ceaseless love, and charge it with excess, 

Because when life's low fire grows less and less, 
And now burns only with a flickering flame, 

I will not quench it, nor the faintest spark 

That lingers yet awhile ere all is dark ? 



9-i FIRM GROUND 



COMPLAINTS AND ANSWERS. 



III. 

rpHE best of human rulers oft forego 
A wonted law-enforcement, if it lead 
To grievous hardship. Laws by thee decreed, 

Sovereign Nature, are not tempered so 

By mercy, but alike through joy and woe 
Unanswering, unrelenting, still proceed ! 
Forsooth of fixed succession there is need, 

That thinking beings may their future know. 

Yet such slight swerving as would oft avert 
Unmeasured anguish, scarce could make us lose 
Faith in our prescience. Still thou dost refuse. 

Does order so much more control exert 

In thy heart than in ours — or so much less 
The care of sentient creature's happiness ? 



FAITH. 95 



COMPLAINTS AND ANSWERS. 



IV. 

"X7^E well may grieve, children, if it seem 
My constancy to order e'er impedes 
The granting of one boon for which love pleads ! 

Within my heart the longing is supreme 

To give and cherish life, and none will deem 
The love of mere unloving order leads 
My just, undeviating course, who heeds 

The vast repleteness of the world's life-scheme. 

Of life, real and potential, know ye well, 
The universe is full ! My pulses waste 
No intermediate efforts while they haste 

From life to life its progress to impel. 
Where'er my law-directed purpose tends, 
The means through which it passes all are ends. 



96 FIRM GROUND. 



THE COVENANT. 



rpHE properties of the elements, if scanned 
When thought is clearest, seem the seal extant 
Of an inviolate, solemn covenant, 

Wherein has been with plain distinctness planned 

A scheme of bounty that unchanged shall stand. 
Omnipotence is firmly bound to grant 
Each promised favor, which the feeblest want, 

Assured of full performance, may demand. 

Each particle of being, though but dust / 
That flies and whirls according to the laws 
Of outward and of inward forces, draws 

Its proper share in the allotment just 

Of help divine, toward the one perfect end 
Whither created beings strive and tend. 



FAITH. 97 



NO PROMISE BROKEN 



JUSTICE of God, most impartially 
Thou judgest ! Though we scarce can bear the light, 
Of heavenly emanations, pure and bright, 

As thy divine, transcendent equity. 

The lowest worm will ne'er be wronged by thee ; 
Though the denial to so mean a wight 
Of some small portion of its lawful right, 

Would save a noble life from agony, 

And grant a boon besought with urgent prayer. 
Thy sentence is that promises divine, 
Which Nature's laws promulgate and define, 

Shall not to one be broken, though its share 
Of favor be so small, 't would seem not hard 
So low and mean a thing to disregard. 



98 FIRM GROUND. 



FIXED FATE. 



A MONGr the sons of Grod the Accuser came 
And said : " Your willing virtue is not free : 
That which ye are doth lay necessity 

Upon your choice — ye must and will the same. 

The Eternal Will cannot exemption claim 
From laws the Eternal Being doth decree : 
Effect and cause are linked unchangeably, 

Constructing Destiny's unyielding frame." 

Then answered he, the Clearly Seeing called : 
" True, Accuser, as thy words have shown, 
The effect that is was possible alone ! 

But thinkest thou our hearts can be appalled 
Bv that wherein we find assurance blest ? 
The Possible is one, since 'tis the best." 



FAITH. 99 



THE BIRTH OF SORROW. 



~TT7"HEN Sorrow first appeared in Heaven of yore, 
The angels by the voice of Fame beguiled, 
Believed he sprang from God's unreconciled 

Resentment toward some wrong that vexed him sore. 

But strange it seemed — they marvelled more and more 
That one of mien so meek, and look so mild,' 
Should be of such stern parentage the child ; 

Till heavenly Truth her tidings to them bore : 

" This beauteous stranger seraph whom ye see", 
Is offspring of that Hierarch benign, 
Who reconciles in unison divine, 

The perfect peace of present Deity 

And strifes through which Creation's work goes on, 
Of God's great Patience ye behold the son." 



100 FIRM GROUND. 



THE WORK OF EVIL 



TN the great Hierarchy of the skies 
The seat of Harmony is next the Throne, 
To the angels, times and places to make known 

Wherein obedient zeal to act should rise. 

Now Satan's fall of old was in this wise : 
Once, when desire that just before had flown 
Warm from the Eternal Heart, throbbed in his own, 

With Harmony not waiting to advise, 

He flewin haste the prompting pulse to obey. 
Thus he estranged the highest harmony ; 
And then not knowing how to make agree, 

His works with Nature's wants, became the prey 
Of nnadapted impulse, — and he still, 
Striving to do the good, does only ill. 



FAITH. 101 



THE OFFICE OF SORROW. 



"DETWEEN the world-directing Harmony 
And Evil — who 'tis said in Heaven once bore 
A name remembered on the earth no more 

Estrangement grew to such high enmity, 

The peace of Heaven was brought in jeopardy 

Contentious thoughts that ne'er were known before 
Vexing celestial bosoms o'er and o'er I 

Still the Supreme chose not by stern decree 

To exercise His high arbitrament ; 
But summoning a seraph from among 
His waiting messengers, one fair and youno-, 

Sorrow by name, him graciously he sent, 
On Evil's restless ardor to impose 
Restraining guidance of experienced woes. 



102 FIRM GROUND. 



RECONCILIATION. 



A LTHOUGKH at first impetuous Evil spurns 
Sorrow's restraints, they grow in strength until 
The purpose of their being they fulfill, 

And Harmony no more offence discerns. 

Bat Evil with unlessened longing j^earns * 
Toward the divine activity ; and still, 
When pulses of divine incitement thrill 

His being, with intemperate zeal he burns. 

Therefore must constant Sorrow yet restrain 
His zealous ardor, that his deeds may be 
Acceptable to highest Harmony. 

And thus it seems it ever shall remain : — 
As moderating guardian till the end, 
Sorrow on Evil closely shall attend. 



FAITH. 103 



SOUL-LIGHT. 



TIT AVE reverent faith in every spirit's light ! 

Doubt not 't is from that sun whose effluence 

Diffuseth widely God's intelligence — 
The faint reflections from the clouds of night, 
No less than day's warm beams, direct and bright. 

Have faith in every spirit's inner sense 

To feel the sameness and the difference 
Of light-impressions made upon its sight. 
But the results of definition, doubt, 

That limits by our knowledge outward things. 

This is the source whence all our error springs ; 
For of the mystic universe without, 

We know the nearest part does not reflect 

Its perfect image to the intellect. 



10-i FIRM GROUND. 



SUBJECTIVE TRUTH. 



TTT HEN of the elements which sense supplies, 
Ideas are through definition wrought, 
These then become the molecules of thought 

That into creeds and dogmas crystallize. 

And all creeds that spontaneously arise 

Are shaped by Nature's forming hand, — in naught 
Are crystal gems to more perfection brought, 

With all the exactness of their symmetries. 

But if beliefs are shaped unerringly 

By Nature, are they to her facts untrue ? 
They are not so save to an outer view. 

With outward facts they all may disagree, 
But with the inward still they harmonize — 
True always to the minds wherein they rise. 



FAITH. 105 



THE MENTAL SPECTRUM. 



(^)F the reflected rajs of soul-light, few 
From nearest objects reach the intellect ; 

And formed beliefs within the mind deflect 
And part them variously while passing through, — 
Making the images they cast not true 

To outward things. Yet 't is by this defect 

Of mind-transparency that we detect 
Most beauteous beams, else hidden from our view. 
'T is thus the falling rain drops, half opaque, 

The clear, uncolored sunbeam decompose ; 

Yet the refracted light which through them flows 
Is that which God selects, when he would make 

A sign to gladden every creature's eye, 

And sets his rainbow in the evening sk}'. 



106 FIRM GROUND 



THE PERMANENCE OF TRUTH 



"All the forms are fugitive, 
But the substances survive.' 



f\ UR creeds of living essence of the mind 
Consist, of conscious life-experience, 
Which by the lights and shades of evidence 

Has into formed ideas been defined. 

And though full many a creed may have declined 
Within our souls, they failed not wholly thence 
Their substance shares the spirit's permanence 

Though to decay their forms have been consigned. 

And should the essence of the mind remain 
Fixed in one form, with no progressive change ? 
Through higher, fairer ranks no longer range 

The unfulfilled Ideal to attain ? 

Nature not always will permit to hold 

Her liveliest substance in one hardened mould. 



FAITH. 107 



CRUMBLED FORMS 



"TXTHEN we look backward to the early rise 
Of human thought — to Faith's far distant youth, 
We see in old beliefs, strange and uncouth, 

Much that all earnest souls forever prize, 

Though many a present creed we quite despise ; 
Because form-crumbliDg years have freed, forsooth, 
Those ancient faiths from falsehood, while their truth, 

Substantial, still remains beneath our eyes. 

But loving souls are strengthened by discerning 
The truth in every faith on which they brood ; 
Long ere its form, perhaps unfit and rude, 

\jid hardened in the flames of zeal still burning, 
The crumbling power of lapsing time has felt ; 
For by their softening warmth all forms they melt. 



108 FIRM GROUND. 



GROWTHS FROM THE SOUL. 



T~p IS pleasant wending peacefully and slow 

Among the creeds, in thought's warm, still retreat, 
To note their outward contrasts, and to greet 

The inward harmonies of soul they show. 

The roots of all strike deeply, far below 
In spirit-substance. Rising, they may meet 
Misshaping influence, but life-sap sweet 

They draw from out the soil whereon they grow. 

And throughout all that wondrous wilderness, 
From every bough a spirit fragrance drips, 
And fruit hangs down even to the hungry lips 

Of him who through the forest dares to press. 
And underneath each lofty growth are found 
Sweet flowers of feeling, covering all the ground. 



FAITH. 109 



THE DIMNESS OF HISTORY. 



L^OR me, dense ignorance beclouds past time, 
Except the little space that memory clears ; 
Save when my ear, with eager listening, hears 

Wise men, whom Destiny permits to climb 

Earth's speculative heights, serene, sublime; 
As they narrate how to their sight appears 
The far extending retrospect of years — 

Even far away toward human story's prime. 

But, ah me, they report so variously I 
And no fit umpire, I, with measured line 
From point to point those objects to define, 

Which they upon the heights but darkly see ! 
I only feel in this one faith secure, — 
Then were, as now, the just and good and pure. 



110 FIRM GROUND. 



THE TEST OF TRUTH. 



TF ye have precious truths that yet remain 
Unknown to me, teach me them ! Each way 
Into my soul I open wide, that they 

May enter straightway and belief constrain. 

But urge not fear of loss nor hope of gain 
To rouse my will, and move it to essay 
To shape my soul's belief, or tinge one ray 

Of Nature's light ! All willful faith must pain 

The Grenius of true Faith, who asks assent, 
Not even to dearest truths, until the hour 
Arrives of their belief-compelling power ; 

In order that the force they will have spent 
In wrestling with our unbelief, at length 
May be transformed into believing strength. 



FAITH. Ill 



RECOMPENSE OF DOUBT. 



"There is more faith in honest doubt, 
Believe me, than in half your creeds." 

I. 

A N angel whose delight is to dispense 

Grod's truth, thus to a prophet gave command : 

" Take now this truth, and going through the land 
Teach it in form that fits the intelligence 
Of them that hear ; — a blessed consequence 

Succeeds true faith." * * * But when the prophet 
scanned 

His finished work, and saw a blessing hand 
Distribute faith's rewards, he took offence. 
For some souls who appeared to have full well 

Accepted all the message he declared 

From Heaven, had in the heavenly blessing shared 
Even less than others, who, most strange to tell, 

In doubt, on farther scrutiny intent, 

Still to a truth of God delayed assent. 



112 FIRM GROUND. 



RECOMPENSE OF DOUBT 



II. 

HPHE prophet to the angel then addressed 

Complaining words : " With credence undelayed 
These willingly accepted all I said. 

Why are not they conspicuously blessed ? " 

And thus the angel answered : " Though professed 
So promptly, yet this faith does not pervade 
Their being, — only on the surface laid 

And lightly by thy power thereon impressed. 

The doctrine thou hast offered them they take 
With languid scrutiny, assent inert. 
Not thus can truth its conquering force exert ! 

And only souls that full resistance make, 
Are, when convinced, assimilated well 
Unto the truth. Let it belief compel ! " 



FAITIf. 113 



RECOMPENSE OF DOUBT. 



III. 

"npHOU Bearer of God's truth to men, why 

Have these, who yet have no belief confessed, 
Eeceived of faith's rewards the most and best ? " 
" They have believed," the angel made reply, 
" And now in words of thine new proof descry, 
That every verity, in form expressed 
Befitting well the intelligence addressed, 
And with clear light illumined to the eye, 
Has power to win of souls their due assent. 
This, realized by them in all its force, 
Has of their heavenly blessing been the source ;- 
By faith in truth and in the soul content 
To wait, serenely calm, the coming hour 
Of truth's authentic, soul-convincing power." 



114 FIRM GROUND. 



i THE OFFICE OF UNBELIEF 



rpEUTH has prevailing power 'gainst all reply, 
The due effect whereof she cannot lose, 
Except when arrogant beliefs refuse 

To let the reason scan and testify. 

But Unbelief will be thy firm ally, 

Truth, and will remain, if her thou choose, 
Most faithful, though defaming tongues accuse 

Her faithfulness, and say she will deny 

Thy right to enter souls ! She does but strive 
To keep thy beautiful abodes unmarred 
By lawless occupancy, and to guard 

Against wrong ingress until thou arrive ; 
And with a voice of unmistaken tone, 



Demand and gain entrance into thine own. 



FAITH. 115 



TILL CLEARER LIGHT. 



A LTHOUGH we may not choose nor hold a creed 
Because the heart's strong yearning it contents, 
Yet whatsoe'er belief with fact consents, 

And satisfies within the soul the need 

Of harmony, — giving a clew to lead 
The unperplexed, assured intelligence 
Through all the mazes of experience, 

Reason may to our lives strong want concede. 

For 'tis the work of Truth to reconcile 
All discords ; and whatever in her name 
Fulfills her arduous function, well may claim 

Of loyal souls to be received, meanwhile, 
Till superseded by an embassy 
Of higher grade in Truth's vicegerency. 



116 FIRM GROUND. 



DIFFUSIVE BEAUTY. 



npHE presence of the beautiful ye know 
By one sure sign, in only one blest hour ; 
'Tis only when ye feel your souls' own dower 

Of beauty larger, more contentful, grow. 

And all its outward sway doth beauty owe 
Unto its widely self-diffusing power, 
That radiates from the petals of a flower, 

From lines and angles of a flake of snow ; 

That makes the stars shed peace serene and great 
On troubled minds through upward looking eyes ; 
One noble action of self-sacrifice 

The daily lives of millions elevate ; 

And clear, accordant songs of souls sublime 
Echo from kindred souls through endless time. 



FAITH. 117 



FORMATIVE BEAUTY. 



\ \THENE'ER the atoms into forms combine, 
The grouping, shaping forces seem to owe 
Allegiance to the beautiful, and show 

Beauty has power to mould and to define. 

Its blessed presence seems a potent sign 
Which e'en obdurate elements well know ; 
Toward it alone will Nature's favors flow, 

Even with its measure metes the Grace divine. 

For when, attent, the beautiful we view, 

And radiant beauty enters through the sight, 
The soul is filled with hope and deep delight ; 

As if its being were assured anew ; — 
As if the right to be had been bestowed 
Only where Beauty maketh its abode. 



118 FIRM GROUND. 



THE POWER OF THE IDEAL. 



rpHE forms that are do not alone decide 
The course of plastic Nature : rights of these 
Limit the power of onward tendencies ; 

But forms to be, the shaping effort guide. 

Mark what the mental vision verified 
By reason, in rebounding bodies sees ! 
When equipoise of clashing energies 

Is reached, the undriven atoms backward glide — 

A form that was and is not, but shall.be, 
Determining the swift, exact recoil. 
And likewise witnesseth the artist's toil, 

That still unfashionecl forms most potently 
Arouse and rule efforts to make them real, 
Through Beauty's power, efficient though ideal. 



FAITH. . 119 



RECOGNITION OF THE FINAL CAUSE. 



~^TOT ours to know the purposes that guide 
The aims of Nature, but when they are brought 
Within our souls, we then are clearly taught 

The power of final causes to decide 

The modes wherein the energies abide. 

Belief therein we need to build our thought 
Of every natural process, and 'tis wrought 

Deep in all theories our minds have tried. 

We need it realized forevermore 

Full clearly, with all cogency of proof 
Through varied instance, for the heart's behoof: 

For what have we to love or to adore, 
Unless we feel wise purpose justly reigns 
Over a world of strifes and toils and pains. 



120 FIRM GROUND. 



PARTIAL READINGS. 



n^HOUGrH the great Scroll wherein have been outlined 
By Nature, thoughts of God, deep and immense, 
We can not read, yet gleams of meaning thence 

At times shine on us, clear, distinct, defined. 

Hence comes assurance that the human mind 
Though weak in reason, and obtuse in sense, 
Still owns a share of that intelligence 

Whereby the great World-builder has designed 

The wondrous plans which Nature's works disclose. 
A child who scans the philosophic page 
Of some profoundly meditative sage, 

May see familiar phrases, — then he knows 

That his .own simple thoughts and childish lore 
Are part of the great scholar's mental store. 



FAITH. 121 



LIGHT- GLEAMS. 



/^\ OD'S glory, lest it blind our human^ sight, 

Hath been behind material forms concealed ; 

Yet to our eyes brief glimpses are revealed 
Of radiance we must deem divinely bright. 
For hast thou not had moments when such light 

Has gleamed upon thy soul, 't was forced to yield 

It worship ? In a throng or lonely field, 
'Mid day's effulgence or the gloom of night, 
When gazing on a landscape, star or cloud, 

Strong rapture seized thee, and before a view 

Of the forever Beautiful and True, 
In reverence profound thy spirit bowed 

For one brief moment ; then the vision passed. 

0, that such gleams of the divine would last ! 



122 FIRM GROUND. 



THE DIVINE IMMANENCE. 



" All are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul." 

I. 

(^ OD from the world distinguish, — from the great 
But known Effect, the unknown greater Cause ! 
From aught our minds conceive, that which but awes 

Our souls with thoughts that past their bounds dilate. 

But call these twain not wholly separate. 
Confess that every natural process draws 
Its moving power through channels, which as laws 

Within the heart of God originate. 

And may there not be nerves which from the seat 
Of the Divine Intelligence arise 
And reach the world's remotest boundaries ? 

Unfelt are these by us, — they do not beat 
Like arteries of Law even to their ends 
When the great Heart its life-pulsations sends. 



FAITH. 128 



THE DIVINE IMMANENCE 



" If -we could see and hear, 
The vision, were it not He?" 

II. 

~^J"0 doubt a wise philosopher was he 

Who called the Universe " Thought petrified ;" 
But does a whole truth in his words abide? 

Perchance the Thought Divine not really 

Is petrified : all this solidity 

May be my sense of being, that outside 
My own continues, and so unallied, 

It but resists, — yields me no sympathy. 

But if the hills and valleys are to One, 
soul of mine, as now thy subtile essence 
Is unto me, through a pervading presence, 

And through the inner life's experience known, 
To Him their substance may appear as free 
From stony hardness, even as thine to me ! 



124 FIRM GROUND. 



"THE GLORY OF THE LORD SHALL 
ENDURE FOREVER." 



rn BE forces that prevail eternally, 

And those that seem to quickly vanish hence, 
Are emanations from Omnipotence 

Of self-conserving, ceaseless energy. 

And whatso in the changeless entity 
Of God originates, partaketh thence 
Of the divine, essential permanence : — 

"Whatever is because He is, shall be. 

0, then to strengthen trust, thyself assure, 
In every fearful, every doubting mood, 
From God came forth the Beautiful and Good ; 

And as the Eternal Glory shall endure, 

They in His changelessness shall still abide 
Unwasted, mid destruction far and wide. 



FAITH. 125 



THE RECEDING PERFECT 



nVTO man may look upon my face and live ! " 
'Tis well he veils perfection from our sight ; 
And if because of visions clear and bright, 

Which raptured souls in ecstacy achieve, 

They deem assuredly that they perceive 
A perfect type of the Eternal Beauty — 
Truth absolute, the final Groal of Duty — 

That day they suffer death without reprieve ! 

Since one activity within the mind, 

Through which its highest life is manifest — 
One effort toward the unattained Best, 

Must then its final check and limit find : 
'Tis satisfied, it makes no farther quest, 
It can but sink to death's unending rest ! 



126 FIRM GROUND. 



COMPENSATION. 



/^ OD asks from creatures for his plenitude 
Of goodness, no return. Without the hire 
Of prayer or praise or love, till they expire 

He feeds the teeming earth's unthankful brood. 

That each demand shall with the general good 
Of all consist, his justice must require ; 
And to his yearning bounty, such desire 

Ascends a grateful offering, like food 

To weary, fainting men whom famine gnaws. [ 
The creature need affords a counterpart 
To the outflowing of the Mighty Heart. 

Recurrent stream of love ! supply it draws 
From wants of all created life, and pours 
Replenishment into love's primal source. 



FAITH. 127 



"PERFECT LOVE CASTETH OUT FEAR." 



"TjHEAR thou a creature with self-guarding fear. 

Too far from thee for sympathy, the ill 

Thou offerest him he may return, until 
The hard requital brings thee penance drear. 
But fear not so the One to thee so near 

His being doth include thy own — His will 

Rewilling thy volitions, doth fulfill 
Their aims through powers that not in thine inhere. 
And 0, beware lest thy distrusting doubt 

Dishonor Love divine, and the attribute 

Of narrow finitude to it impute 
By deeming any soul can be without 

Its blest embrace. At once each fear reprove 

And hush by faith in all-including love. 



128 FIRM GROUND. 



THE RIGHT ETERNAL. 



The wrong that pains my soul below, 
I dare not throne above." 



TF any, as an advocate who pleads 

Religion's cause, shall to mankind proclaim 
The rale and test of right is not the same 
For motives whence a human act proceeds, 
And purposes of God's great sovereign deeds, — 
That right, forsooth, by God's command became, 
Beware of the false prophet ! In the name 
Of Faith's defender, he avers what needs 
Must the foundation of all faith remove. 

For what supports even your most holy trust 
That all is well, and will be with the just, 
If your clear intuitions do not prove 

The laws of right which pure souls apprehend, 
Unchanged, throughout all time and space extend. 



FAITH. 129 



THE CRITERION OF REVELATION. 



I. 

rpHUS spake Elisha to the Shunamite: 

" The angel of the Lord, with voice to dread, 
Has bidden that thy son, raised from the dead, 
Be offered a burnt-offering on the height 
Of Carmel ! He who gave thy heart's delight, 
Twice pitying thee, now bids that it be laid 
Upon His altar." But the woman said, 
" 0, man of God ! ne'er would that cruel rite 
Be claimed by Him who gave me back my boy. 
Some evil spirit has thy ear deceived. 
I know that He who pitied when I grieved 
And turned the anguish of my heart to joy, 
Would not desire such painful sacrifice — 
No incense sweet to Him would thence arise." 



130 FIRM GROUND. 



THE CRITERION OF REVELATION. 



II. 

" TT~AST thou the wisdom to determine when 

Commands from Heaven are His, and when not so ? 

How can a heart He trieth if it show 
Bold disobedience, ever hope again ? " 
The prophet spake, but not less boldly then 

The woman : — " Well His goodness do I know. 

My faith therein no words can overthrow, 
Spoken by angels or by holy men. 
He tries me by this test ? It cannot be 

He so delighteth in obedience 

That He would break a heart to draw it thence. 
No proof thereof would make Him pleased to see 

A mother's agony, though hushed her cries, 

When yielding up Tier child for sacrifice." 



FA1TIJ. 131 



THE CRITERION OF REVELATION. 



III. 

U^LISIIA sped away to Carmel's wild, 
And to the Lord thus prayed with many a tear : 
" Be merciful to her who will not hear 

Thy word, though Thou did'st raise to life her child ! " 

And the Lord answered with reproof though mild : 
" For her thou need'st not my displeasure fear! 
An evil spirit did deceive thine ear. 

Now learn of her to be no more beguiled ; 

For, mindful of the favor to her given, 
She in my goodness hath abiding faith ; 
And whatsoe'er of me another saith, 

Although the words may seem to come from Heaven, 
She ponders well, and tries it by the test 
Of that which in her heart she flndeth best," 



